No Middle Ground
by Dark50ul
Summary: "When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or die" A alternate reality in which Ned Stark know how to play the game, and what ensues after. A/N : This is my first take at fan fiction. Not much planning has been made (yet) about this story and no idea where it will lead. Just a way to burn time (for now). Helpful criticism appreciated, thank you!
1. Hand of the King

**He dreaded the south.**

It never was his wish to ever return to Kings Landing, or south of the Neck for that matter. The only remnants here were bitter memories one would rather forget. Fighting alongside Robert in his youth, the man he called his brother, to overthrow the Mad King. To save his sister, to bring justice for his family. Only to find the Mad King beheaded in the throne room, stabbed in the back by his own Kingsguard, Jamie Lannister, perched on the Throne. _Father and Brandon died in this room._ And here he was now, seated on the barbed Iron Throne, waiting for what felt like days. _I rode south only for you Robert. To save you._

Jon Arryn was dead, and should Lysa's word heeded true, it would've been at the hand of the Lannister's, who would soon kill King Robert as well. _The dreadful lot, who sacked this city, murder Jon, and attempted to assassinate my son. You've kept horrid company Robert._

He hoped he'd arrive soon.

Justice for their crimes. Then and now. Even now it was hard for Eddard Stark to stomach, the Kingslayer and the Queen committing treason against the crown, against Robert. The truth Jon Arryn had died for. _Brother and sister, leaving Robert with only false heirs. Just as the Targaryen's did to keep their bloodline pure._

"We came in the world together, we belong together," Lady Cersei had told him when they met last twilight. attempting to sway him with her sweet words and beauty. Once she saw he had no care for what excuses she had or offers to say, only curses and threats came. "When you play the game of thrones you win, or you die. There is no middle ground Lord Stark."

He felt little pity for what's to come.

 _She should've heeded my words. "Leave with your children, before Robert returns, for his wrath will follow."_ As far as she was concerned, he wouldn't return from his hunt in more than a fortnight, giving her more then enough time to prepare, and dispose of the honorable Lord Stark. She was a proud lion, and wouldn't flee so easily with her tail tucked between her legs.

 _She underestimated me. I grew with soldiers, fought battles, helped Robert win the war and secure his throne. I learned how to die long ago, but I don't intend to now._ He remembered giving the parchment to his messenger, written by his own hand, "Give to no one but King Robert. It must be in his hands, and his eyes that see. No one but the King. Not his Lannister squire, not Ser Barristan the Bold, only King Robert. Make haste and ride by first light."

He met with Cersei that night, and two more had past when he heard the King had rode through the city gates with the moon at full, fuming and raging.

 _This city has made me a snake, begotten of honor. But it cannot end as before. No more children shall be murdered defenseless in their beds. I must calm Roberts fury. Control it. Make him see reason. End another war before it begins._

He ordered the guards to be prepared for the King's early return, and keep watch on the royal children and Queen Cersei. _Not Lannister guards. Janos Slynt, the commander of the city watch, is seemingly always surrounded by the Lannisters. No doubt he's in the Queen's pocket. The Baratheon guards and my own, ones I know to be loyal to Robert and I._ The bellowing he begun to hear drew nearer each passing second, and stood from the throne slowly, his leg still aching from the fall from his horse, and cane wobbling in his hand. _Will my leg ever be the same again?_ He knew Robert's fury would be immense, and Eddard would have to try his best to quell it. _Ours is the Fury indeed._

"Ned! Where are you, you damn bastard?!", the doors flew open, as if his bellowing made the doors give way. Robert was wroth, head red with rage, dark blue eyes murderous as he looked upon Lord Stark. Looking unraveled as if riding for days, his garments looked worn strecthing over great belly. Sweat beaded his head, breathing heavily with his chins moving under his black beard. Ser Barristan and a few of Roberts bannermen followed shortly after, hands on their swords as if a battle was about to occur. _There may well be one soon._ In Robert's clenched hand, a paper.

Robert held it up to Lord Stark, his knuckles white with rage, and spoke, his jaw square, teeth clenched. "Ned, is what...this said...true?"

"Your Grace," Eddard said calmly, looking him in the eye, seeing his fury clouding his mind, yet a sliver a doubt, as if he pleaded with him to tell him otherwise. _If only it were._ "It's true Robert, all of it. I found wi-"

Robert turned to Ser Barristan and his guards with him, almost screaming at them, "Find that traitorous bitch! Along with their spawn of incest bastards! Bring them here now! ". He turned back to Ned, "You better be damn sure about this."

Ned watched Robert make his way and sat on the Iron Throne, fuming with anger. Eddard approached him carefully, knowing he had to control him. "Robert, what do you intend to do with them?"

Robert looked at Ned and snarled, "I'll kill them Ned. Put their heads on spikes for the entire city to see and know what has happened. I already put one Lannister in chains, that fool Lancel. He confessed to being her eyes and ears on me once I brought my hammer on his hand. She betrayed me, played me for a fool all along Ned, that lion bitch. Doing just as the dragons had and breeding together."

"And what of the children Robert?" he asked warily. _No more murdered children._

He rose from throne and shouted at Ned, "Did you not hear me Ned?! I know you haven't gone deaf in the North. They're false heirs and lionspawn!"

 _His fury blinds him._ "Robert," Eddard spoke camly, but stern, "They are children, innocent of any crime their father and mother have done. You kill them, Tywin will rage war, and the city will revolt. They won't take kindly to the execution of children."

"Their spawn of incest Ned! I called them my own, they called me their father, yet it was all a ruse that wretched Cersei. I never was a proper father to them. I was more a father to my bastard then I was to any of them here."

 _Edric Storm, living at Storms End I believe. He may soon need to come to Kings Landing. A discussion for another time._ "That doesn't mean you can just execute them as if they were nothing, or a prisoner in the black cells"

Robert glared at Ned, "They became just that when you found it was the Kingslayer's seed that bore them." He sighed, his initial fury slowly dying. A guard came, approaching them both.

"Your grace, we found the queen and the children in their quarters."

"Bring them here at once, I want her to see her life crumble before throwing her and her children in the black cells. And bring me wine! It's going to be a long night."

The guard left swiftly, as Robert sat on the throne again, with Eddard facing him.

"Your grace, listen to me. You cannot put the children in the black cells, and you cannot kill them neither."

"Then what do you expect me to do Ned?", he yelled. "Let them wander around the castle just as before?"

"They are about to have their lives taken from them, their life collapsing on crimes they didn't commit, you can't-"

Robert stood again, face turning red, "I am the king Ned! I will do what I damn please!"

Ned still stood unflinching, facade unbroken. "You'll be no better then the Mad King if you believe that." _What has this place turned you into?_

Robert stood agape, stunned, and angrier then ever. Almost a whisper, he spoke, "Careful Ned. Be very careful with me now. You called me the Mad King once already. I already broke one hand, you don't want me to break another." He paused, as if he already made his mind on whether he should. "Then tell me, Lord Stark. What should be done when they walk through those doors?"

Ned breathed slowly, and started, "Let the children stay in their quarters. Under house arrest. If you wish you can send Joffrey and Tommen to the Wall, and Myrcella to the Silent Sisters. They'll live decent lives there, and have no right to usurp your throne. Revoke them of your name, declare them bastards of Cersei and Jamie Lannister for the Seven Kingdoms to hear.

"Cersei and Jamie should be exiled to Casterly Rock or to Esos. Executing them could make Twyin move to declare war on the crown. He is a proud man, always moving towards furthering his house's legacy. He would not take well that the future of his house is now put to shambles. Heed my advice Robert. I beg you."

Robert stared at him, hands clenched on the throne in a silent fury, silent as an abandoned tower, save the crackling of the fires, and the shouting of guards with the Queen soon to arrive.

The throne doors opened, revealing Cersei, looking menacingly at Lord Stark, and her children huddled together around her, facing their father. _Your father isn't here children._

Robert was silent, yet their eyes never broke their gaze. _Please be the man I know you are. The brother I grew with._

Finally, he looked to them, his wife, and the children he raised, nothing revealing love in his eyes, only disgust.

And he spoke.


	2. The Blacksmith

**The bells were ringing through the city.**

He stopped his work to briefly hear again, curious on why they'd be ringing now. He walked out of the heat of the forge briefly to the slums of Flea Bottom. Many commoners and merchants looking just as confused as he did, looking to the sky while children ran around, oblivious to the change. Some started to the Sept of Baelor, others went back along with their day, not interested in another capital funeral so soon after another.

 _I should get back to my work. Master Mott will be wroth, even with those damn bells ringing._ He knew Master Mott left an order for him: 5 plates, 3 daggers, and 4 bastard swords. "For some common sellswords who needed fresh steel, so ready your arm boy," he said. He went to retrieve more steel for them to craft at first light, leaving Gendry to continue alone. It wasn't odd for Master Mott to do, nor nothing difficult for Gendry to obey. He's been an apprentice for Master Mott since he was a small child, and the forge was he always called home, his art, and passion. He took pride in it, and was proud of what he made. His new helmet forged as a bull was his most prized possession he had, impressing even the newest Hand of the King, Lord Stark. He started walking back inside to continue his work, the bells only a small annoyance now.

"Did anothe' hand die now? Bells rang las' time it happened," one merchant said as he went back to his sale.

 _Hands who meet me would seem to die then._ The heat of the forge came over Gendry as he went back to pounding the steel. Making the metal sing with each blow was a satisfying pleasure for him. Each blade unique, crafted differently from the other, always meant to last, shine, and keep its sharpness. A blacksmith's brand marking his work, and skill for all who faced the steel to see.

 _So why would the Hand's want me for? I'm an apprentice smith. A motherless bastard._ Each asked about his mother, and he told them both the same. If not about his mother, they'd ask if he was happy, taken care of, as if he was their son to take care of. _They never asked of my father, only my mother._ _She died when I was little. Could it by chance...?_

"Boy!"

He jumped, and saw Master Mott standing behind him, carrying some iron and steel, eyebrow raised and jaw set firm.

"I've been callin' for you three times now. Has the rings of the bells gotten to you, or your pounding of those swords?"

 _He'll make me work through the night for that._ Gendry put down the sword, feeling flustered for being lost in thought. "I'm sorry Master Mott, I was...err, lost. Thinking 'bout those bells and what not".

Master Mott put the ingots of steel down and looked at Gendry, brows furrowed, making his balding and age show more.

"I wouldn't 'ave blamed you if you went to find out yerself. Heard from couple people comin' back that the King gonna have a trial for the Queen or something along that sort. Judgment is more like it".

 _The Queen?_ "What had she done?"

Master Mott sighed and ran his fingers through what little hair he had on his head. "You know what boy, how 'bout you go find out for us? 'Been working all day here for those sellswords anyway. Go head over an' see what the king has to say".

Gendry looked at him and spoke hesitantly, "You sure Master Mott? I still need to finish the plates and-"

Master Mott waved his hand apathetically and retorted, "Just go Gendry, I'll handle the damn plates today." He reached in his pocket and tossed him a sliver which he caught. "Get something to eat while your at it. Plenty of food from here to the Sept. I know that bakers girl looks at you when you walk on past. ".

Gendry blushed and seemed very interested in what the ingots looked like. _Thank the God's for the heat. "_ Alright Master Mott," he said and quickly left to get proper clothes. _I'm a bastard. Girls don't look at me, they want those highborn one's, like the blonde prince._

He said bye to Master Mott and departed from the forge with a couple other silvers he had should he need anything more. The midday sky was covered by the clouds and a gentle cooling breeze was flowing, giving some respite from the heat of the sun. Flea Bottom was still bustling with people, vendors trying to make a few small coppers and silvers, children playing in the puddles, some naked as their name day without a care who would see. He made sure to keep his distance from them as they played. Some would be thieves most like, having to get some coppers to buy their next treat. _Orphans would have to steal to get any food. I'd probably be the same if it wasn't for Master Mott._ He never knew how he was lucky enough to become a master smiths apprentice from being a bastard orphan. He remembers how Master Mott took him from the orphanage, specifically asking for a boy named Gendry and taking him to where he now called home. _More children there at that place then I could remember. They could use the food better then I could._ He kept walking pass the merchants to reach the Sept. Soon he was through Flea Bottom, when he saw the baker and his daughter still selling their treats, her carrying a basket filled with bread. _Mia I believe her name was, with her amber hair._ She looked his way and smiled softly that reached her brown eyes, a hint of a blush covering her pale cheeks. Her father whispered something to her and went back inside, leaving her out alone.

"Best bread in Flea Bottom!" she shouted. "One loaf for two coppers!" She looked at Gendry as passed by. "Would you like a loaf handsome?"

He stopped and looked her as she approached basket in hand, wearing a bakers apron over a cream colored dress spotted with flowers the color of honey. "No thank you."

"Are you sure? A strong blacksmith like yourself needs something good to eat. These loafs are fresh," she said temptingly, looking from his arms and chest. _Perhaps she thinks me as loaf of bread to eat._

"Again, no thank you," he said and saw the glimmer in her eyes fade a bit, but undeterred.

She looked to see her father still in the store unaware, and gave Gendry a loaf and a smirk. "Here, it's free for you. Perhaps it'll be nightfall when you return. I'd hope to see you then," she said quickly, then left to go join her father, with a slight, but noticeable sway in her hips as she did so. He blushed feeling heat rise to his face as he held the loaf in his coarse hands and continued, feeling slightly uncomfortable. _Are all men weak to women and their charms?_

He kept walking following the people towards the sept as he ate the loaf of bread Mia gave to him, hearing things along the way.

"... to cause such'a rage in the king..."

"...the king came through the gates four days past as if he 'as out for blood I say..."

"...saw him come out of the Sept of Baelor with the Lord Hand early yesterday..."

"...haven't seen the princes or princesses neither since then..."

"...the king came to our brothel the other night. Cera said he was heaving an' raging as if he was n' battle. She didn't look kinder for it..."

 _What in seven hells happened to the king?_ He saw the Sept and the crowd all gathered, bells still ringing. He saw small folk from the lowest and cutthroats of Flea Bottom to well dressed nobles in the crowd waiting to see what would happen. He saw the Lord Hand standing with a cane staring at the crowd, his face etched with weariness. with guards nearby also keeping the crowd at bay. _Not dead at the very least._ Along side him was a bald man dressed in fine robes, his hands hidden from view in his sleeves, whispering something to the Lord Hand. Another was a man smiling looking in the crowd, with dark hair with threads of grey wearing a light black tunic with a bird crest attached to it. The Lord Hand soon stepped forward slowly, making the crowd settle down in anticipation.

"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon,"he said with a firm and steady voice for the people to hear. "First of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I, Eddard of the House Stark, Hand of the King, Lord of Winterfell, and Warden of the North begin the trail and confession of Cersei Lannister for treason against King Robert".

The crowd instantly started jeering and yelling; it would've been chaotic should the guards not have been there. Gendry saw a higher point to look upon and climbed the statue of Baelor, where other children were perched watching as well, wearing small rags huddled close together. They looked at him with mild interest, only seeing the loaf a bread in his hands. He gave them the rest of what he had and watched as they devoured it. _They needed it more then I did anyway._

In the distance, he saw golden hair being escorted by Baratheon guards, all while the people were shouting, yelling, and screaming vile things to the queen. She still looked elegant with a appealing dress of crimson red, golden streaks running down her sleeves, the Lannister sigil sewn on her shoulders. Though her hair was golden, it was disheveled and unkempt, as if rodents have ran through it. Her emerald eyes showed no love Gendry thought a queen should have. _Only hatred lies there._

"She stands before you, the eyes of the people, and the eyes of the Gods, to be judged for her crimes, and confess to what we have proven true," he said, pausing every now often for the crowd to understand clearly. "Cersei of the House Lannister, you stand here accused of committing incest with your brother, Jamie Lannister, the Kingslayer-". The crowd went amok, declaring her a whore, brother fucker, throwing piss and shit at their queen. She stood, not moving a muscle, looking in the distance, face stern and hard. _Even accused with this, she still stands tall._

"Silence!" Lord Stark shouted over the crowd, the guards pushing them away from the queen. "As well as this, passing off your bastards as wrongful heirs to the throne, leaving no trueborn heirs with King Robert. Will you confess to these crimes?" he asked her, while she stayed motionless, only looking down at her feet, shielding her face.

Finally, she raised her head as elegantly as she could, looked at the crowd, and spoke.

"I am a Lannister. Daughter of the Warden of the West, Tywin Lannister...and I am lion. I will not cower before you as some wounded dog and beg for your mercy," she roared as the crowd raged and thundered. She turned to Lord Stark, who looked even more weary and tired. _Not tired, disappointed._

"I am your queen. Were I born a man, I'd make a better king then Robert or you ever could!" She turned back to the crowd and looked softer, almost as if she was pleading with them. "I am here on false crimes I cannot fathom why I would ever do. Robert wants to see my head on spike to be rid of me, and fabricating these lies is his way of doing so. And torturing more by ridding my children's-our children's true birthright to their throne. I won't confess to these audacious crimes Lord Stark and King Robert has accused me of!" The crowd was deafening enough Gendry could barely make out what was happening anymore. Whether demanding her head, or accusing the Hand of injustice, Gendry did not know.

"That's enough!" Lord Stark shouted over the crowd.

"The Seven take you all! My father will have this answered for! A Lannister always pays their debts!" screamed Cersei as the guards came to restrain her, thrashing and snarling. _Like a caged lion._

"You had a chance to confess to your crimes my lady, and you wasted it. We already have sufficient proof we need to find you and Jamie Lannister guilty of your treason." Lord Stark took a parchment from the man with the bird crest, and read to the crowd loudly, "This is an approval of annulment from the High Septon himself. From this day, the marriage of King Robert, First of his name, and Cersei Lannister, first of her name, is to be annulled. With the recognition of their children Joffrey Baratheon, Myrcella Baratheon, and Tommen Baratheon be as bastards of incest produced by Cersei Lannister and Jamie Lannister, the Kingslayer.

Lord Stark looked to Cersei, who was fuming, and now gagged to cease her screaming and curses. He looked back to the people.

"However, the King has demanded justice for the Queens crime against him, and he will reci-"

He looked to his right where he saw the king was rising onto the platform, heaving with his face red accompanied with a seemingly permanent scowl etched on his face. The Hand looked surprised to see him, as did everyone else there. He dressed in how a king could be if riding to battle, full steel armor covered in black and yellow garments, with his crown high on his head. On his side, a sword sheathed in its scabbard. The Hand and the King seemingly begun to argue briefly and quietly, until the King bellowed loudly.

"I'll deliver this justice myself damn you!" He looked to the people and spoke his hand raised high in a fist. "You all heard my Hand say what she's being punished for, and punished she shall be! Ser Ilyn, fetch me a block!"

The crowd became chaotic, cheering and jeering as before for blood. Craving to see the king kill the Queen. _Execute the Queen they mean._ The Lannister was struggling against her guards while she was forced on her knees to face the sword. The chaos and noise drew louder and louder, the horde of people becoming more erratic by the second. _I should leave now, the Queen is already dead. Rather miss it then be crushed._ He climbed down from Baelor and begun back to the Street of Steel, leaving the throng to its howling. He could still hear them through the streets and echos, until it seemed as the entire city hollered. He looked back to the empty alleys behind him, and then back to continue on. _Seems the small folk had gotten what they wanted._

In the sky, the birds cawed and flew.


	3. Lady Stark

**The Kingslayer no longer spoke, and for that she was grateful.**

His mocking words only goaded the lords of the north to take his head, no more then Lord Karstark. _I doubt anyone save my son would've protested against it._ Each day while they marched him and the other prisoners to Riverrun, he kept provoking his guards and hounding at Lord Karstark and Lord Umber. Continuingly challenging Robb in a duel, asking justice for the imprisonment of his siblings. It was midday of their arrival barely a fortnight ago when the ravens from Kings Landing came north. _Dark winds, dark words. Dark words indeed._ Since then, none of the north men bothered with the Kingslayer, too disgusted by his presence and occupied by the sudden news, leaving only the Frey's to harass him now. _Black Walder especially. And he is to be the heir of the Twins once Old Walder finally passes_. The Lannister lost his will to speak since they told him the fate of his lover from what Robb had told her, or eat for the matter. _I still need answers only he has. Soon he will speak the truth._

She was in her chambers preparing to enter the main hall, nourished from the salted trout and smoked bacon complimented with wine earlier. She was dressed in an sky blue dress with a light brown cloak, a silver trout necklace above her breast, with light furs on her shoulders and wrists. _I will show my houses, both Tully and Stark alike._ Her son was with the lords of the north and riverlands were in the main hall, gathering to hear the outcome with Tywin Lannister.

Dacey Mormont lead a dozen other north men as an envoy to parley with Kevan and Tywin, delivering the conditions of their surrender. There was hardly light out when scouts spotted them riding back on the horizon. Should Tywin had accepted, all their prisoners would be returned unharmed with the exception of the Kingslayer, who would live out his days at the Wall, much to the discontentment of Lord Karstark. _If the Kingslayer takes the black, we'll have to keep distance between the two._ Many wished to see his head off his shoulders, yet Robb made them see reason.

"With Tywin already robbed of his daughter and grandchildren's right, taking his heirs life may be another slight too many," he said. "He wouldn't fight to win, he'd fight to bring as much ruin to us as he could. Make this victory as bitter for us as it could be. We've already won my lords, there's no need to start another war. We don't need to lose anymore fathers and sons, and leave only widows at home. Winter came for the Lannister's, and soon it will come for us. We need to prepare for the storms yet to come." _He's so much like you Ned. I pray to the Seven for your safety. Come home, you and the girls. See your sons grow._

She heard knocks on her door and soon went to see who called upon her. She saw Mya Stone waiting for her eyes tucked down with her black hair to look in the eye too long, dressed and a nice but simple grey dress as seen for most handmaidens. _A drastic change for her, not used to being around many lords, and learning to be more formal has been hard for I'm sure._ She remembered reading the ravens words before leaving the Vale, how her husband and daughters were faring in the capital, and of the Queens imprisonment with her eldest son Joffrey. _Taking Mya with me as a handmaiden was odd for the lords of the Vale and I then, but with what Ned said of Roberts...Cersei's children, him requesting she should come to court may mean much more for her._

"My lady.. the lords are gathering in the main hall," she said timidly. "Your son requests that you attend my lady."

"Thank you Mya," she said with a polite smile. She curtsied awkwardly and begin to walk away. "Would you walk with me?" she called out.

"Of course my lady." They walked together slowly through the corridors, with Mya admiring the work of the castle walls and designs. _She's never been away from the Eyrie, much less in another castle._ "Have the others been kind to you?"

She looked back at her, castle walls forgotten. "They have my lady. Teaching me how to be all noble like and neat." She rubbed the fabric of the her dress between two fingers. "Though I've never preferred dresses, especially in the Vale. Whitey would've tugged at it with his teeth and Mychel would've laughed." she said with a small chuckle and a small longing in her eyes.

"It's good for you. Soon we will arrive at Kings Landing after all of this." She looked at Mya, and noticed her furrowed brows. "Is there more that troubles you?"

"None my lady. Nothing you should have to concern yourself with."

She stopped her then, making her look up at her. "Mya, if it's something I can help with, I will do what I can. No need to be timid with me."

She sighed softly after a brief silence, turned and walked towards a small window looking over the rivers and encampments. "It's strange being around so many nobles and lords at once. I never expected to be noticed by any, I was a bastard daughter to a father I hardly remember. All I did was bring people up to the Eyrie, common folk and lesser nobles alike. It was what I've known since I was a child. To not be afraid of the drop of the mountains, or of Whitey and the other mules. Learning those mountains and rocks, where to step, where one may fall. Others think it as a fright, but on those cliffs, I felt as if I could soar above it all." She paused and played with the hems of her dress again while looking at her reflection. "Here...it feels so different, and unknown. Like trekking through darkness."

 _As I was when I learned I was marrying a different man._ "Everything will be different surely. You're a woman grown, older then I when I was to be wed to Lord Stark. We must do our duty no matter what." _Family, Duty, Honor._

"I still don't understand why I need to come to the capital, learn all these things now, or have to hide my reasons on why I'm to go my lady."

 _The capital will devour you if you don't._ "Once we arrive at Kings landing, all will make sense. My husband is an honorable man, and if he wished for you to come to court, it will be best to know these things." The main hall was in sight, with all the lords together. "We'll talk more about this soon, understand?" She nodded and made her way back to her chambers as Catelyn joined the lords in the hall.

They were all seated in the dining tables, full of ale and their meals, many eaten and more cups empty. She saw Robb seated next to Dacey Mormont who just arrived, Theon Greyjoy, who was well in his cups now and a serving girl at his side. _Boasting of the battle no doubt._

Greatjon Umber was the first to spot her, and the loudest to declare her presence to Robb. "My lords! Lady Catelyn has arrived!" he shouted to the hall. Soon many eyes were on her, many standing and bowing, others raising their cups, yet all she cared was for Robb. He was wearing a grey and brown surcoat over light armor as well as a fur cloak on his shoulders. He wore a small smile on his face at seeing his mother, and worry free from his face. _Hopefully Dacey brought good news._ She soon made her way towards him and sat down next to him, finding Greywind's eyes on her from under the table, his fur rubbing on her leg.

"I trust you slept well mother?" he said with concern. It was no secret to him her nights have been unrestful. _My father dying and my family all separated._

"It was a peaceful rest Robb," she lied. "I only wish they were here." It's all she could think in the dead of the night. Ned, Arya, and Sansa. Sometimes living happily in the capital. Beautiful Sansa with her dresses, flourishing in the southern court. Wild Arya learning the courtesies and the ways of a lady. Other dreams were horrible, nightmares of the Lannister's having them, Sansa and Arya hostages. Ned killed leaving them alone to fend for themselves. _It would've been Ned on the executioners block should Cersei had killed Robert. I pray every night that you keep them safe Ned._

Concerned spread over his face with his brows furrowed. _He must have seen the lie plain on my face._ and grasped her hand. "Rest assured mother, all will be fine soon. I trust in father, and from what Dacey said, we'll be back in the north soon."

That made her smile, and she sat as she watched him walk to the high table, ready to announce the parley made with Tywin. Everyone turned to him and soon quieted down to hear his words.

"My lords," he said loudly. "As you all know, two moons ago we sent Dacey Mormont to parley with the Lannister's and give them their chance of an honorable surrender. To go back home, with their prisoners unharmed, and the bloodshed stopped." Dacey stood next to him with the scroll he had given her, now in his hands. "Now, she has returned, with the seal and signing of Lord Tywin himself!" A loud roar of approval came from the lords, cheering of their official victory. _Save for the Karstarks._

"We fought together to put down the treachery of the Lannister family, and that we have. We won these battles in the south, ones to be remembered for all the common folk through the lands. Yet the war for us is never over." He raised a horn with ale high, as everyone in the hall. "Winter is coming, and soon we will march home and endure through the cold as we have for thousands of years!"

They cheered louder then Catelyn had ever heard them before and went back to their festivities. Soon the northern army would march back home once the prisoners were exchanged. _I should_ _feel elated, proud that this is all over, a war prevented. Yet I still feel uneasy, in my own home no less. As if we have only just started one._ She approached Robb soon after when he was alone while the other lords were singing and drinking. "Robb, what do you plan to do now?" she said quietly.

He sighed staring at his cup. _He must be tired._ "I suppose some men will stay to help the Riverlands have order again. Smalljon could lead them. Even join with the party father sent to ride down the Mountain. Surely the Greatjon would appreciate me giving his son a position of command of 200 banner men." _He would ve appreciate a marriage alliance much more._

"Do you intend to march all your men back home?" she said questionably.

He looked to her now, confused. "Your riding back with us mother. Surely this can wait till then."

"I'm afraid not. Your father wishes for me to ride back to the capital, and see your sisters, bring them back home if need be." _And deliver Mya to King Robert safely._ "With the discourse in the small council happening in Kings Landing, he hasn't had proper time to explain what has happened." _Sansa he said has been struck very deeply by it. Soon I will be with you and her both._ He nodded softly understanding, yet worry still swam in his eyes. She saw the parchment still with him, seeing the new seal that decorated it."Don't tell me you believe completely that Lord Tywin will honor this?"

"Not even for a moment," he said without hesitation. "I don't plan for him to sit idly while his family is ripped from him." _Good. The North aren't the only ones who remember._ He seemed to be somewhere else in his head. Greywind whined beside him.

"What else troubles you?" she asked.

Bizarrely, he looked to his cup and talking too softly. "I was hoping you would be able to come with us north. With having to cross the Twins..." he said, suddenly very shy.

 _Ahh._ "You wished for me there to help you deal with meeting your bride to be." His cheeks flushed slightly and could not meet her eyes. _Walder Frey would insist on having the wedding as he crosses most likely._ She clasped his hands in hers, "Robb, I didn't know what your father was like until after the Rebellion was won. I barley knew him on our wedding night. I grew only knowing of his brother, your uncle Brandon. I was blessed and lucky enough to grow to love him as my husband, and that will never change. You have a chance to choose who you wish to be. You may be strangers to each other, but soon you will grow to support and love one another. This is a decision you will have to make on your own, be it I'm there or not." He smiled softly with his eyes and soon retired to his bed, as well as many of the other lords, stumbling along the way.

It was later that evening she went to visit the Kingslayer's cell while the castle slept. Despite Robbs' warnings of speaking to him, she visited him wishing for only Brynden to accompany her while she conversed with the Kingslayer. _The Lannisters' still have much to answer for. Should the Imp and Ned say to be true, The Kingslayer may have another hidden crime against the Starks._

She wore a black colored cloak in the castle dungeons looking over some prisoners as she passed, many letting sleep consume them. She held a lantern close, revealing herself in the pitch black. Some stirred at the light, but left her be once she left. She only saw his feet, unmoving and caked in dirt and filth.

"Kingslayer." she spoke firmly. He did not move, as far as she could tell. She repeated herself louder, yet he still did not stir, or even show a sign of life in him. She banged her lantern against the bars of his cell, a loud _clang_ rang throughout the cell. Though he still did not move, what she did see was that he was far from asleep. When she last saw him, he was still in gold covered armor, coated in the blood of her sons bannermen and dirt. He was a handsome man, clean shaven, his hair long and golden as the sun with a smug grin on his face, and emerald eyes to match.

She saw none of that now. Only a shell.

His hair was disheveled patchy, as if some had been ripped out. _The Frey's may have to answer for this._ She could barely make out any of his golden streaks his hair had. His cheeks now covered with light brown fuzz, seemingly lost some form, showing him more gaunt then she's ever seen before. His nose had been struck, if not broken, a recent cut shown just above the bridge. It was his eyes that she was surprised to see the most. His eyes gleamed as a common cat would should light be shown at their eyes, though his revealed bitterness and malice towards her. But even that could not hide what they held the most.

 _Pain. So much pain._

"Leave me be Lady Stark." His voice was gravely and low, as if he was struck with fever.

"Only once you tell me what I wish to know Kingslayer," she countered. "What happened in Winterfell?"

He remained unmoved, only his eyes looking on hers. "Why in seven hells do you believe I know wha-"

"The broken tower Ser Jamie. How did my son fall?"

He chuckled to himself softly, infuriating her. "I would assume it would be because he slipped and fell. The broken tower must've had some loose stones in her."

She was seething, but she remained calm. _I must find the truth. Who tried to kill my son._

"Enough with the quips Kingslayer," she spat. "My son was almost killed by a catspaw to slit his throat, using Valyrion steel that your brother had won. No one would try to kill a crippled child, less a comatose one unless he saw something he wasn't supposed to. Something he saw before being crippled."

He hardly moved, but he spoke, "If I were to kill anyone, it would be by my own hand, not some lowly assassin. Believe what you wish, but I will tell you I had no part with that catspaw."

 _You had part in his fall._ Catelyn scowled at him. "Jon Arryn was murdered as well. By you and Cersei no doubt."

She saw a flash of pain on his face at the mention of his sisters name, quickly hidden from him turning away, laughing maniacally. _By the Seven, he must be going mad_. "Do you intend to blame every death on a Lannister now?" he said. "If the High Septon shits, should it be the blame of my father if it isn't gold?"

"There's no more to be done for you," she said quietly. "Soon you'll be off to man the Wall for the rest of your days." _Hopefully there aren't that many days left in you_ "Whether your sons will join you are soon to be seen." She looked for any change in him, any sign he would look at her. None was found that she could see. "Your crimes you've committed with your sister are well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms by now-"

"Many won't believe them," he said suddenly. "And if you believe my father will, you and the entire Seven Kingdoms must have lost your wits."

 _I would never underestimate him._ "He would be a fool to continue this endeavor in secret, and an ignorant one not to see his own children's crimes. He has since agreed to let you take the black, to save your life or the shame you put on your family only he would know."

He laughed bitterly. "He doesn't see us as just his children. This is his legacy you all have put the line, the one he built from the faults of my grandfather. Everyone knows the Raynes of Castamere, slighting him with their refusal of payment. If you believe he will ever truly surrender to you after killing his daughter, I pity you all." He paused before speaking again. "A Lannister always pays his debts Lady Stark.

"We executed her. It was not murder Kingslayer."

He scoffed at that. "Convince my father of that, and I'd pledge me life to your service for the rest of my days. Though I suppose that chance is already gone. 'A Lannister always pays their debts', and he will be sure the North and all the Seven Kingdoms will remember that. He loved us true, but wanted us to be what he wanted, to do what he wished. Cersei as the golden queen..." he paused, looking to the lantern Catelyn was holding, then to his own hands. "And me, his heir he wanted for Casterly Rock. I never wanted any of it. Tyrion would rule it far better then I ever could. I only wished to be a knight and with my sister. An honorable one as such was The Sword of Morning and Barristan the Bold, and in the embrace of her."

She was silent, too stunned to say more, watching him slowly look back to her, as if he was seeing someone else on her face, his face having small lines where dirt was. _He's not afraid to show his tears anymore._

"I made my vows to kings, stood by them as they did what they pleased. Robert with his whores and feasts, doing nothing but getting fat and spawning bastards at every brothel he could visit to...and the Mad King as he burned nobles and commoners alike." He slowly got closer to the bars, clutching them with his hands. "You think me a dishonorable man, the Kingslayer. Tell me Lady Stark, if I killed the Mad King while he was burning Rickard and Brandon Stark alive, laughing as their screams filled the throne room while hundreds of people watched, would your precious Ned thank me, or still see me as what you all believe me to be?"

His voice grew louder, and she slowly backed away from the bars. _This was a mistake._ "If I told him of the caches of wildfire buried throughout Kings Landing," he continued. "And how the Mad King ordered me to kill my own father...and do nothing while he set the capital ablaze...would he have done it?" he screamed at her while she left him behind.

"I broke my oath to a king to save thousands, and he judges me! What right does he have to judge me?! By what right does the wolf the right judge the lion?!"

 _Those have to be lies. He's a Lannister. An oathbreaker. Without a shred of honor._ Yet she couldn't shake his words. How real they felt. _A broken man with nothing else to lose._ She went to her chambers and begged that sleep take her easily that night, for dreams to take her back home, with her children in the halls of Winterfell.

All she dreamt that night was the capital engulfed in green flames, a dragon roaring in the sky, and a golden lion with blood in his maw.


	4. Children of the Keep (Part 1)

**A/N:** **This is part 1 of 3. Once I'm done with the other two parts, I'll post them all together.**  
 **Just for simplicity, the ages are aligned with the show, but it will be most book canon (as much as I can make it really.)** **  
**

 **ARYA**

 **Syrio's lessons couldn't distract her anymore**

She put all her attention into her dancing lessons with him since the imprisonment of the Queen. It didn't bother her that much then; in fact, there was a small comfort knowing Cersei and Joffrey were in the black cells. _After he attempted to escape, and kept screaming in his chambers, the king grew tired of it and threw him in there._

Sansa kept to herself with her needles and praying with Septa Mordane. The day Joffrey was imprisoned, she screamed and cried, hot tears falling down her face as she closed herself in her room. She refused to talk to father or Arya for days. _Still believing Joffrey was her golden prince and father and I were taking him away from her._ Father had no success in making her speak with either of them, only able to make her attend meals when he could be with them.

It was after dinner that night when father told them what had happened. What he discovered, and what he had told the king. He sat with them together, holding them both as he spoke. His eyes were weary and tired as he went on.

Arya was in shock, bewildered, and disgusted, her tongue unable to make words. The Queen with the Kingslayer, as the Targaryen's had...

Sansa was silent throughout, looking aghast with wet eyes once he told her what Joffrey was, a product of incest, as well as Myrcella and Tommen. That the queens children were not the kings. She held herself looking towards the floor, Arya and father forgotten, heaving, seemingly about to lose her supper as she ran from them both to the privy.

Arya eventually found her words, and looked up at him "What will happen now? Will we go home?"

He caressed her hair and kissed her brow. "I wouldn't know Arya," he said softly.  
"The king still needs me to help him. I don't know for how long." They heard Sansa's sobs and he stood with his cane, with more ease then before. "You believe you'll be alright tonight?" he asked. She nodded slightly in response, and hugged him tightly again before running off to her chambers. She had little sleep that night, her mind not allowing her to lay still even for a minute. _If the gods are kind, we may go home soon. I hate it here. I miss home. I miss Nymeria, I miss Bran, I miss Jon, I miss Winterfell._

The next morning, the queen was dead.

Arya allowed herself a hidden smile when she heard from her father. _I hated her. She killed Lady._ He had just came from the Sept, looking more tired then ever before.

"What will happen to Joffrey?" she heard behind her. Sansa was peering out from the corner. She seemed better then Arya thought she would be. Her hair was neatly pinned and braided as she used to in Winterfell, and wore a sun kissed gown. Her lack of sleep was evident, slight bags from her eyes shown. _I thought she would look much worse. She cried and howled through the night._

He went to Sansa, taking Arya by the hand with him, and wrapped them both in his arms. They both gladly accepted it, Sansa melting in the embrace, sobbing silently. Thankfully no tears came from them. _I wouldn't be able to stand it right now._

"Don't concern yourself with him anymore Sansa," father said softly caressing her hair. "I will find you a lord worth-"

"I don't care about marriages anymore." She tore from him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes downcast. He held her arms close to her breast. "I just wish to know what will happen to him. Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen." _I had forgot all about them. Only that they were still kept in their chambers._

"Myrcella and Tommen will be fine. They will stay here under my guard until the king and I come to agreement on what to do with them."

"And Joffrey?" She looked up to his eyes then, as did Arya.

He sighed looking to them both for a moment. "The king has decided he is to be sent to the Wall. He is a man grown in Roberts eyes. He will be gone with the rest of those bound for Eastwatch."

Sansa took a breath, but nodded in understanding and retreated back to her room, leaving Arya and her father. _I think she wants to hide her tears. Knowing what Joffrey is now._

"Arya," he spoke suddenly, kneeling down to her. "I want you to listen to me very carefully. I've told you already that this place is dangerous, and it has only gotten worse. I won't be able to watch you or Sansa as often as before. The king needs me, do you understand?"

"Yes father," she said without hesitation.

His gaze didn't break. "I want you to watch over Sansa and stay in the Keep. She may need more time then you to be used to all these changes. Train with Syrio as much as you would like, just don't wander around the castle alone."

 _Last time I wandered, I ended in the sewers near Flea Bottom._ "I understand father," she paused, then threw herself at him hugging tightly. "Winter is coming," she said on his shoulder. "The lone wolf dies..."

"But the pack survives." he finished. Even without seeing his face, she could tell he was smiling.

She did what her father said, spending the next weeks concerning herself with Syrio, always ecstatic training with him. His lessons became harder, with more dancing and less of chasing cats through the halls. The wooden swords were lighter in her hands now, and easier to move with. His strikes hit her less, and was met by her own. _Each bruise is a lesson he says, and recently I've had less._ She practiced alone as well, in her quarters with Needle doing the dance when she wasn't with Sansa.

 _She's been weird lately. Not in a bad way, but not good either._

Every time she was with her, she did her courtesies as she would usually do, and talk as if nothing of the past weeks had happened. Arya could have been fooled before, believing Sansa was being stupid and lost in her own world of knights and fantasies, but Syrio trained her to look in the eyes of who you face. Whenever Sansa smiled, it never reached her eyes, and she couldn't find anything there. Her eyes were always cloudy to her, hiding something more.

Even when Joffrey left on the ships sailing out of Blackwater Bay, she couldn't feel anything from her. She only stared from the balcony with Arya standing next to her, watching ships set sail. _He is to a brother of the Nights Watch. A brother to Jon. An honor that Joffrey doesn't deserve. May the Old Gods and the New have mercy on Jon._

She looked at Sansa then, and saw a small drop fall from her face on her closed fists.

"You must think I'm stupid," she said quietly eyes set on the sea. "Knowing what his family did to the realm. What they could've done to ours. What they made father do to Lady..." She closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose. "I'm sorry I lied about Nymeria and Joffrey. I was scared of the...of Lady Cersei breaking the betrothal." She looked at her feet, eyes watery and hands wrung.

 _It was stupid, but it's done. I still feel her out there, I know she's alive. I dream of her, leading a pack of her own._

Arya placed her hand on Sansa's, attempting to comfort her. _I've never had to._ Sansa grasped her hand back, a hint of a smile on her face.

"I was a stupid girl, who thought the capital would be like the songs. With all the knights and tourneys we were told." She turned to her, still holding her hand. "You were smart enough to see through that."

Arya couldn't help to scoff and look to the gardens below. "I just never cared for them like you did. Only about the fighting, not a stupid knight that would come to save me. I want to be like Bran, a knight or an outlaw like the White Fawn, even Danny Flint who joined the Nights Watch. I don't want to be a lady like mother wants me to be. I could never be that... I was always Arya Horseface, and you were the Beauty of the North." She felt Sansa's eyes on her, her hands felt shaky, teeth worrying her lip, and a wave of sadness came over her. "You were always better at those things then I ever could be. You admired Rhaenys, I, Visenya. I could never be how you are with your dresses, or your beauty."

Suddenly she felt warmth over her, arms over her burying her face in Sansa's shoulder. The cloth on her dress was wet. _I'm crying. Why am I crying?_

"You're not Arya Horseface," Sansa said, in a rather shaky tone, "Not anymore. Anyone who would call you that again will see through father first. I swear by the Gods. You're my sister, and I should've treated you better." Arya felt tears fall on her as well. _We're both crying, Gods. Why can't I stop?_

Sansa held her shoulders, both of them seeing their tears falling down their faces. She sniffled. "Can you forgive me for how I was?"

Arya became rigid for a moment and rubbed the tears from her eyes. _After all the teasing and fights we've had. All our bickering and differences, but she is my sister. I don't really hate her, not anymore. We need to look after each other. I promised father._

"I can Sansa. I think I can," she said, immediately wrapped in her arms again. If Sansa said anymore, Arya did not hear. Only fathers words in her head, 'The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives'. _My family is my pack, and I must protect them. Sansa needs us. She needs me to be her sister._

Neither of them saw father save for supper, where he looked more solemn each passing day. He asked them each on their days and how they have been with Septa Mordane learning the southern court as much as they could. Father was still cautious with them. _Boring, but Sansa takes it up well._ Ned kept what he discussed with the small council private from them, but every now and then put in news they may be interested in or needed to know.

The night before, he announced to them that mother is only a fortnight from Kings Landing.

"I know I haven't been able to be around for either of you often, so she is coming to help keep you company and integrate more with the southern court." Arya looked over to Sansa, who had a bigger smile on her face then she had in day. However, Arya was concerned.

"Will she make me stop my dancing lessons?" she said hastily. Father scratched his beard for a moment before answering. _It's grown a bit longer._

"I don't believe she will. We'll talk more of it when she arrives." He looked at both of them, wiping his mouth with the table cloth. Sansa was still dining on the roasted pork, too much for her appetite, while Arya was finishing her glass of watered down wine he allowed them to drink. "We have another matter I wish to tell you about. It won't be only your mother that is to arrive at court." Arya looked at him curiously, and Sansa set down her utensils, both eagerly waiting for his response.

"She brings with her Robert's daughter, Mya Stone from the Vale. I wish for you both to be kind to her and welcome her here as if it was our own halls. It's very important that you both help her feel welcomed here."

Arya became confused for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. Sansa as well, as she was the first to speak. "Why would mother bring the king's bastard here to King's Landing?" she said softly. Arya winced when she said "bastard" and clenched her fists softly. _Such a stupid word._

Her father continued, "Robert does not wish to marry again, despite many protests from his brother Renly and the Faith, he refuses to." He nodded to the servants that took their meals away. "Now if a king does not have a queen that bore him any heirs, what would that leave him without?"

He didn't have to wait long for an answer from Sansa, "No inheritance for the crown. No true heirs." she answered.

Arya was confused with Sansa's answer, and responded, "Wouldn't the crown go to the king's brother if..." She turned to her father, who nodded silently and held his hand up softly.

"It would, should he have no sons or daughters. However, the king has decided to legitimize a select few of his bastards to be his heirs," He paused, looking over Arya and Sansa again. "Which is why Mya Stone will be arriving to court. She is his firstborn daughter and is to be the new princess of the Seven Kingdoms."

Sansa gasped softly to this, and Arya only stared at her father, processing all of what she heard. It felt uncanny to her, surreal. _Nothing in the south seems right,_ she concluded. "So she will be queen if the king should die?"

Sansa glared at her in shock and mild horror, and father unmoved, and he answered.

"No, the prince would be." 

**A/N: I wanna say I'm sorry for the delay. College has kept me very busy. Like I said, I will work the best I can. Originally, I wanted to post all 3 chapters together, but with my slow progression, I thought you guys might need something. Next part is Gendry. See you soon**


	5. Children of the Keep (Part 2)

**GENDRY**

He'd never been on a horse before.

Many knights and warriors would ride them at tourneys during the jousts, and to get in and out of the city gates. They were great beasts to him, used to get anywhere someone would need to, and strong enough to carry carriages and even the biggest men. From how he'd seen them, they were practically made for man to ride.

That thought fueled his anger.

No matter how he moved in the saddle, he always felt out of place. Whether to the left or right, he ass never sat right. His feet felt awkward dangling on the sides, bumping against it every step it took, and using the reins seemed to do nothing for him. The more frustrated he became, the more uncomfortable he felt. _Working steel is far better then this._

The worst of it was he wasn't even guiding it. He knew better to complain with Lord Stark leading him through the city, already through Flea Bottom. The castle kept growing closer as they moved through the people. He felt their eyes on them, and felt all the more uneasy, self-conscious above all.

The Hand of the King arrived at the forge with his guard earlier that evening just before dusk, both were anxious to see him again. Tobho Mott and him discussed quietly for a bit, while the guards stayed close to Gendry and looked at him curiously. He was tempted to speak on it, as expressions flickered on their faces. _It's if they see a ghost._

Suddenly, Tobho Mott's hand was on his shoulder, a slight downcast look on his face. He spoke quietly in his ear. "You are to go with Lord Stark," he whispered. "He'll take care of you. Get your belongings an' be quick about it."

He looked at Master Mott, his expression unchanging, then at Lord Stark and his stern face, as his eyes were on him. He looked different from seeing him at the Sept of Baelor,. His cane was no longer with him, and his eyes looked more tired then when he visited the forge. _He complimented my work._

Lord Stark nodded to him. "Go one lad, get your things," he said. _I must' been staring too long._ He left quickly, leaving Master Mott and the Hand behind him, his emotions whirling inside. He stood next to his cot, looking over on what he had. None was worth taking in his eyes anymore.

 _All except one..._

He shared no words with Master Mott when he left, his eyes down when walking past, ready to leave with Lord Stark. He seated in his saddle the best he could, struggling with his helm in his hands and the sun in his eyes. He looked to the forge and Master Mott's eyes met his. He nodded once, reassuring him as best he could. _"The Lord Hand is an honorable man" he said. Offered to take me should I wanted to wield a sword 'stead of forge one._

His helm slipped from his hands and fell in the dirt. Master Mott reached for it, but Lord Stark got it first, brushing off the dirt. "You want me to carry it lad? You don't want to drop it while riding," he said. Gendry shifted in the saddle best he could and took it from his hands, muttering his thanks softly. Lord Stark mounted his horse as well as his guards, and they soon departed. Gendry couldn't help looking back, seeing his master disappear in the forge. _My home._

They'd be at the Red Keep soon. He saw the large towers and red bricks of the fortress grow larger.

One of the guards rode next to him as they passed near a brothel, a fat man with a red beard and sweat beading his forehead, peering glances time to time. He scratched his whiskers. "You forge that helm yourself?" the guard asked. Gendry grunted clutching the bull, not in the mood for talking. It didn't stop the fat man. "It's a fearsome helm for sure. I'm sure you'll forge many other crafts like it."

That piqued Gendry's interest. He looked to the guard and asked, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice, "Am I to forge for the king now? That why you lot takin' me?"

The guard turned forward and grunted. "Lord Stark told us nothing of the sort. Only that you be brought to the king."

 _He lies._ "You say I would be able to forge other crafts. Means' I'm to forge there now."

The guards nostrils flared slightly. "What you choose to do is up to you now Your-"

"Tomard!" someone shouted. Lord Stark slowed his steed down, coming next to them both. The guard, Tomard, seemed abashed and bowed his head softly, moving up to ride with the rest of the men, leaving an impatient Gendry with Lord Stark. "I'm sorry about that lad," he said, lines creasing on his face. "There are things that are better said later then now."

His blue eyes narrowed. "For when, m'lord?" Gendry replied. Lord Stark was silent, his guards looking on. Neither was helping his patience, already wearing thin."You took me from Flea Bottom for what? Serve you? Forge for the crown? " His voice was rising. _I should shut up._ "Fight in your battles?"

"Mind your tongue," one of his men said harshly, but Lord Stark held his hand up.

His eyes were grey and sharp as he spoke,"I understand your impatience and confusion. Soon it will be clear once we arrive at the keep." He looked forward at the gates. Dozens of the kings banners adorned the walls. Guards clad in black and yellow with the royal stag on their armor were making way for them to pass. _Not gold cloaks._ The gates groaned as they were opened. _What waits for me beyond here now? A new forge? A new home? The gallows?_ He felt every gaze that was on them as they passed through.

Lord Stark dismounted off his steed as they arrived in the courtyard, a glimpse of pain flashed on his face, but passed as soon as it came. Three of his men followed him as he approached Gendry, struggling to loosen his right foot from the stirrup. _Damn these things._ One of the men seemed amused by Gendry's struggle.

Lord Stark didn't seem to share that pleasure. "Don't fight with it," he advised, his tone showing no sign of ridicule. "Slowly lift your foot, then bend your knee." Gendry reluctantly heeded to his advice, hoping not to look a fool any longer. "Follow us. I'll show you to your quarters," Lord Stark said once he was off the horse. He stared up at the towers of the keep, feeling smaller than ever. _My new quarters can't be here. This has to be a dream._

He clutched his bull helm tighter and followed the Hand.

He was mesmerized by the decor and seemingly endless halls the castle had. Nothing ceased to surprise him here. Smells of perfumes lingered in the halls, his footsteps felt louder than they ever had been before on the staircases. Paintings and plants he'd never seen hung from the walls, along with torches lit from the ceilings. They passed by a garden coated with flowers of the richest colors he's seen, along with some nobles they passed by. They bowed their heads to Lord Stark, and eyed Gendry with curiosity. Just before they arrived at what would be where he would stay, he saw a cat perched on a window, and swore he saw a figure hiding in the shadows, as if watching the cat.

Further on, they eventually stopped at a door of dark oak with black brass for handles. Lord Stark opened the door and led him inside. "This is where you will stay tonight lad," he said, but Gendry almost didn't care to hear. The room was not a large one, but bigger then Gendry ever thought he would have in his years. There was a pair of chairs and small plain desk with candles burning in the corner of the room, a window that looked above the city. A large rug covered the floors, as well as silk curtains on the wall and windows. There was a small chest on the foot of the most comfortable bed he'd seen.

He was almost too stunned to hear Lord Stark continue. "Tomorrow, new garments will be delivered here for you to wear, as well as a bath, unless you would like one now."

Gendry turned to face him, the shock subsiding. "I-I still don't understand m'lord. Just...why am I here?"

Lord Stark looked down, then nodded to the guards as they closed the doors, leaving only the two of them alone. He stepped closer, but far enough as to give him a comfortable space. "I requested for you lad," he said coolly. "It's for the good of the realm, and you are part of it. I had to make sure you were kept safe."

Gendry's mind was racing. _Keep me safe?_ "Safe from who? And why would you care 'bout me?" Lord Stark only nodded, and continued, "You are very important Gendry, and it's why we had to bring you here."

That made Gendry angry, despite his better sense. "I'm only a bastard m'lord. I don't see how someone could care 'bout a bastard"

He felt Lord Stark place a firm hand on his shoulder. "I have a bastard of my own," he said.  
"Jon Snow is his name. I raised him among my true-born children, in my hold and halls, and never for a moment regretting it or thought of turning him away. I love them all equally and they love him as well. They are blood, as he is mine" Gendry looked down feeling embarrassed, as a silence passed between them. "You should get some rest. It will be a long day tomorrow." His hand fell from his shoulder. Gendry regained his confidence and asked, "What will happen tomorrow m'lord?"

Lord Stark scratched his chin. "I'll prepare you to attend court. As I said earlier, you're not in trouble here. I'll make sure of that" Lord Stark looked to the city, the moonlight shining through. "You best be getting some rest soon. We'll speak more on the morrow. My men will be outside these doors should you need anything"

Gendry nodded as Lord Stark left the room. He looked around, still bewildered at his quarters for the night. He set his helm on the desk and sat on the window side viewing the city. _It looks so much smaller then before_. He could see the massive Sept of Baelor and roads leading to Flea Bottom. Small huts and shanty's had tiny gleams of light inside them, like flickering fireflies through the capital. He thought of Tobho Mott, the orphans the played naked in the streets, Mia who would give him free bits of bread, and Lord Stark who brought him to live in here. _I don't like nobles much, but I suppose he's the one I should trust._ He yawned, and soon shed his tunic and went to rest in the feather bed.

It was the most comfortable bed he'd ever been in, yet sleep did not come easily.

 **A/N: Yeah...college is a bitch.**

 **Along with that and having severe writers block, this chapter took forever for me to write. I'll try to be better with updates and coordinate properly. But hey, it's here and I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Next chapter will be Sansa's POV.**

 **Till next time!**


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